


McHanzo Week (2016)

by sksNinja



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dorks in Love, Feelings, Gen, Genji Shimada is a Little Shit, Hanzo is a pushover, Jesse's in it deep, M/M, McHanzo Week, Snowed In, god i love them, gross ugly laughter, puppies!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-09 23:51:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8918443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sksNinja/pseuds/sksNinja
Summary: I wasn't planning on joining in for McHanzo week, but here we are.   Lets do it!





	1. First Time (Laughter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the most part the archer ignored him. Sometimes it seemed like he was listening. Twice he would swear he saw a smile, but laugh? Never.

Jesse McCree was a storyteller by nature.  Whether it was his own tale or someone else's, be it serious or satire, there were few things better than weaving together some grand tale while surrounded by allies.  No, more than that, than by friends.

It was past dinner and a number of members had gathered in the rec room to wind down for the evening.  Mei was working on a puzzle with Zenyatta.  Hanzo had dragged a chair into the corner and was reading on his tablet.  Reinhardt was crocheting increasingly larger pairs of socks.

Jesse meanwhile, had managed to cram Hana, Lúcio, and himself onto one of the old loveseats for one of his stories.  It was easier to gain the interest of the new recruits, especially if it was embarrassing.  And boy howdy, the story of the _second_ time he got kicked out of Dickie's Barbecue Pit was a good one.

The trio laughed as Jesse explained how in drunken cowboy logic, taking off your shirt before using it as a napkin made perfect sense.

McCree has just gotten to the point where he upended a sauce slathered rack of ribs onto himself when he heard a sharp choked cough from the corner.

A glance to the side revealed Hanzo, shoulders hunched, holding his fist over his mouth.

McCree called out after a moment, “You alright there Shimada?”   

“Hmm?” Hanzo’s eyes glanced up, then back down.

“Yes, I’m fine.” He cleared his throat again and straightened himself.  He waved a shooing motion and looked back to his reading,  “You may resume.”

McCree shrugged and turned to continue,  “So there I am, BBQ Sauce on my tiddies.”

A series of muffled snorting giggles erupted from the corner.

McCree pulled around the best he could to look at the archer.  Hanzo had dropped his tablet into his lap and had both his hands covering his mouth in an attempt to quiet his laughter.

Hanzo’s shoulders shook, and he seemed to regain some control over himself until he looked up to see McCree’s blank stare.

A moment passed before Hanzo burst out laughing.  Actual, goddamn laughter.

“Phsshahaha you-”  Hanzo gasped for breath, as if the man was being forcibly tickled.  “I can’t even-” more laughter,  “look at you!”

Hanzo suddenly stood and swiftly moved to exit the room, more muffled laughter following him.  His tablet lay abandoned in the chair.

Near silence filled the room, save for Zenyatta's soft humming as he searched for his next puzzle piece.

“Did...” Hana broke the silence.  “Did that just happen?”  
  
McCree hardly heard her. He found himself staring slack-jawed at the door, echos of laughter singing through his head. 

He decided his newest goal was to hear that sound again.


	2. Domestic Life (Grocery Shopping)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One can never have too many snacks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, I was thinking of Trader Joe's the entire time I was writing this.

“Jesse McCree.”  Jesse froze.  Hanzo only used his first name if he was pleased, or rather very displeased with him.  Using both his first and last name, he had a feeling it wasn’t the former.

 

“Yeah Han?”  Jesse thumbed his belt loops, leaning back casually.

 

Hanzo gave him a, ‘ _ don’t give me that _ ’ look.

 

“If you try to sneak one more unnecessary snack into this cart I will make you wait in the car like the child you apparently are.”

 

“Wa- come on darlin’!”  Jesse spread his hands in an effort to defend himself.  “I’m grabbing good stuff!”  

 

Hanzo reached down to pull out the spicy nacho chips McCree had just dropped in.

 

“You know Hana likes Doritos!”

 

Hanzo silently raised a package of moon pies.

 

“Aww c'mon everyone likes those.”

 

Expression still deadpan, Hanzo pulled up three different types of beef jerky.

 

“Hey!”  McCree pointed a finger at Hanzo.  “Protein is good for you!”

 

Hanzo turned one of the packages at McCree.  “This one is made from bacon.”

 

“And bacon’s a protein!”

 

Hanzo continued his dry expression.

 

McCree crossed his arms and huffed.  “You can’t tell me you’re not guilty ‘a doing the same thing.”  It was Jesse’s turn to reach into the cart.

 

“Genji likes pocky,” Hanzo spoke before McCree even opened his mouth.

 

“Heh,” McCree chuckled, waving the box at Hanzo.  “Genji likes green tea pocky.  The chocolate is all you.”  He dropped the box back into the cart.

 

“Oh and what’s this?”  McCree grabbed a box tucked next to bags of frozen vegetables.  “Red-bean mochi ice cream?  Now how’d this get there?”  Jesse gave him his best shit-eating grin.

 

Hanzo shifted his weight and glared at the shelving.  This was a battle he was not looking to win.  Cutting his losses, Hanzo grabbed the mochi, threw it back in the cart, and began making his way to the check-out.

 

He turned back to the still smiling McCree.  “If you promise to share the sweet & hot jerky, I won’t tell Dr. Ziegler that we stopped at the liquor store on our way home.”

  
Jesse laughed quietly as he followed the archer.  He wasn’t sure what warmed him more.  The easy feel of their banter, his success at persuading the man, or the fact that Hanzo had just referred to base as  _ their home _ .


	3. Alternate Universe  (College AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taco Bells in college towns are always an experience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by real events.

“Hanzo pleeeeeeeeease?”  Genji draped himself dramatically over his brother’s back.  Hanzo rolled him off with scoff, so Genji proceed to lie on the floor and continue his drunken whining.

 

“C’moooon please take us to Taco Bell?  You’re just studying.”  He grumbled.  “It’s not like we even woke you up this time!”

 

Hanzo glared down at him for a moment before turning back to his work.

 

“What if we just borrowed the car then?  Zen hasn’t had anything to drink.”

 

Hanzo looked to his brother’s quiet friend.  While he was grateful Genji seemed to have finally found a friend responsible enough to make sure he made it home safe from parties, the man’s constant mellow expression was... unsettling.  The man currently sat cross legged on the edge of the dorm-room bed.  At the mention of his name he smiled and waved quietly.  Hanzo was sure the man must be high most of the time.

 

“Hanzooooo,” Genji sat leaning against Hanzo’s desk now.  “You know I’m just gonna bother you until you take us.”  A few moments passed.  “Heh, that or I’ll keep drinking and then you’ll really wish I had some food in me.”

 

Hanzo laid down his highlighter with a groan of weary resignation.  “Go put on your shoes.”

 

“Yes!”  Genji sprung up only to instantly trip onto his hands and knees giggling.  “Heh heh whoops!”

 

Hanzo rubbed his temples.  “Give me strength,” he muttered.

 

* * *

 

“Alright,” Hanzo turned to the back seat.  “Do you know what you want?”

 

“Yes!  Wait, no.  Um, I’ll know when it’s our turn.”

 

Hanzo gripped the steering wheel and prayed for patience.

 

Soon enough it was their turn to order.  The drive through speaker sparked to life.

 

“Evening darlin’s welcome to Taco Bell.  What can I pleasure you for?”  Hanzo was momentarily stunned by the obviously fake southern drawl.

 

“Uh,” He swiftly gathered his wits. “Genji!” he turned to his brother. “What do you want!?”

 

“Uhhhh…”

 

“Genji!” he hissed.

 

“I’D LIKE A CHEESY GORDITA CRUNCH.  NO TOMATOES.”  Genji yelled from the back seat instead of simply relaying his order to Hanzo.

 

Hanzo sighed as the cashier chuckled.

 

“Can do, can do.  Our gorditas are naturally tomato free, ain’t no big thing to make them more so.  What’s next?”

 

“Uhh” Genji staled.  “ANOTHER CHEESY GORDITA CRUNCH.  NO TOMATOES.”

 

“Double the gordita, hold on the salsa got it.  Gonna make it a triple?”

 

Hanzo attempted a reply of, “no,” but was swiftly overspoken.

 

“YES! ANOTHER CHEESY GORDITA CRUNCH!”  A pause.

 

The speaker remained silent.

 

Genji smile widened, “NO TOMATOES!”

 

A soft chuckle, “Knew it was coming.  Anything else?”

 

“No.”

 

“YES!”

 

Hanzo whipped around to face his brother.  “We. Do. Not. Need. More. Food!”  Hanzo didn’t bother to keep his voice low.  “I’m not eating, your friend hardly eats anything, and I’m sure you didn’t bring your wallet so I’ll end up paying anyways!” 

 

Genji dug through the empty pockets of his jacket and glared quietly.  The lack of retort proving Hanzo right.

 

The drive thru voice broke the silence.  “My my, looks like we have a hot little diablo sauce over there.  You just let me know what I can do to help ease that troubled heart.”

 

Hanzo’s face flushed red.  Both at the words spoken, and for being caught yelling the same as his brother.  Hanzo closed his eyes, took a breath, and turned to Zenyatta.  “My apologies.  Would you like anything.”

 

Zenyatta hummed softly, “A potato soft taco would be nice.”  He reached into his pockets.  “And I do have some cash I can contribute to-”

 

Hanzo held up a hand to cut him off.  “Do not worry yourself.  Genji will owe you.”  He turned to relay the order, “One potat-”

 

“ONE POTATO SOFT TACO.” Genji yelled once more.

 

“GENJI!”  Hanzo looked ready to burst.

 

The voice chimed in once more, “Now now you two, kickn’ never gets you nowhere ‘less you’re a mule.”

 

Hanzo drew his hands down his face.  Now he was being lectured by this embarrassment of a man.  Did his humiliation know no bounds?

 

The voice continued, “You sure you don’t want nothing hun?  Let me toss you an order a cinnamon twists.  Seems you could use a little sweetness in your life.  On the house.”

 

“Fine.”  Hanzo was too tired to argue.  Instead he asked Genji, “Anything else?”

 

“A large baja blast would be nice,” Genji spoke at normal volume this time.

 

Hanzo’s expression softened, “And a large baja blast, and that will be all.”

 

“Sure thing sweetheart, pull on up to the window when yer ready.”

 

* * *

 

Hanzo wasn’t sure what he expected the man on the other side to look like, but it certainly wasn’t this.  The drawling voice was one thing, but the untrimmed side burns, those warm eyes, that easy going smile as he leaned out the window… and that was to say nothing of the hat, the actually cowboy hat the man was wearing.  That _had_ to be against their dress code.

 

“You need a map there darlin’?”  The man’s voice shook lightly with laughter.

 

“You- I-” Hanzo paused.  “What?”

 

“Ya seem a mite lost in my eyes.”

 

For a moment Hanzo did just that, before swiftly sputtering back to his senses.  “I didn’t- you’re not-” His face set into a glare, and passed the man his card to pay “And I am not your darling.”

 

“Oh and don’t I know it honeybee.” He leaned back to swipe the card and hand it back. Bumping Hanzo’s hand as he did so.  “If had I a firecracker like you’d I’d never let you go.  Even if it got me burned.”

 

Hanzo found his mouth too dry, too tongue tied to respond.  He was too focused on how the man had growled the word "burned."  Instead he accepted the bag of food. Taking it from the bottom to avoid brushing hands again with the bold stranger.  He passed the bag to the backseat.  Genji was being unusually quiet, but he didn’t dare comment on it.

 

“You boys have a good night ya hear?”  The man tipped his hat with a growing smile.

 

“Thank you, goodnight.” Hanzo replied curtly.

 

“Anytime for you darlin’,” the man called as they pulled away.

 

“Hey Hanzo,” Genji finally spoke up as they turned out of the lot.  “Here, I think this is for you.”

 

Against his better judgment, Hanzo reached back for whatever Genji wanted to give him.

 

Apparently, a crumpled napkin was Genji’s idea of a gift.  Hanzo scoffed and was about to toss the useless garbage away, when he saw messily scrawled pen marks.

 

It was a phone number, next to it was the word, “McCree.”

 

Hanzo slipped it into his pocket as they drove away, hoping his brother wouldn’t notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to velolciraptor and their love of Taco Bell.


	4. Role Reversal (Costume Swap)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana’s charity stream has never been more fruitful.

“I’ll have you know I never agreed to this.”  Hanzo said as he pulled off his kyudo-gi.

 

“Yeah, well I didn’t neither, but least it’s for a good cause.”  McCree sat shirtless on the edge of the bed as he worked to remove his chaps.  “Now my feet are probably too big, and there’s no way I’m getting your leg bracers on, but spurs are removable so we can put them on whatever boots ya got.”

 

“Uhg, must everything you wear be so loud?” Hanzo groaned.

 

“Hey now!”  McCree pointed an accusatory finger.  “If I’m letting you wear the hat you gotta wear the rest of it!”  A few moments passed.  “Ya think I gotta shave my chest?”

 

Hanzo scoffed,  “No, not unless you insist on drawing hair on mine.  I think they will forgive some inconsistencies.”

 

"Darlin' I'd shave my head if it meant I got to glue it on ya," 

 

"Gaahg!" Hanzo exclaimed.  "You. Are. Horrible."

 

The pair resumed swapping clothes; their bickering increasing all the while.

 

“Yes you have to tuck it in.  No McCree, the left side _must_ go over the right.  I don’t care that half your chest is uncovered.”

  
  
“Hanzo it’s a sarape not a scarf.  Ya can’t just tie it in a knot!   And the cigar adds character!  Not like you gotta light it up or nothing.”

 

“How much did they donate?  I don't know that this is worth it.  How long do we have to do this?”

 

By the time the pair deemed the other ready, both were irritated to the point of glaring silently at one another .

 

Hanzo was the first to crack.

 

“No.”  He took off the hat and set it harshly on the dresser.  “I will not do it.”  Hanzo began fumbling with the belt buckle.

 

“Wha- Hanzo!”  McCree huffed.  “Don’t know what you even got to complain about!   You get to go in there all jolly-like.  I’m the one that’s gotta be all broody and serious.”  McCree waved his hand mockingly.

 

“Ha,” Hanzo laughed dryly.  “Yes of course, look at me!  My name is Jesse McCree and I’m loud and obnoxious and..”  Hanzo turned to him with a sharp smile.  “Yes.  Exactly that.”  Hanzo refixed the buckle grabbed the hat and strode swiftly down the hall, spurs chiming harshly.

 

‘Aw hell,’  Jesse thought.

 

* * *

 

 

McCree sat sulking in a chair off to the side.  It was still within view of one of D.Va’s webcams so she couldn’t complain, but while the chat might have thought he was acting in character, it was clear to everyone else that Jesse was not enjoying himself.

 

Genji moved to lean against McCree’s chair.

 

“While I admire your dedication to my brother’s stoic nature, I cannot help but feel you are not having a good time.”

 

“We’ll shit Genji,”  McCree continued to watch Hanzo ridicule his taste in whiskey, while still drinking said alcohol.  “Whatever gave you that idea?”  Hanzo hadn't even refiled the sake he carried with him.  The empty gourd pressed uncomfortably into McCree's side, reminding him of his sobriety. 

 

“McCree, if you just gave him a chance I think-”

  
  
“What you want from me Genji?!”  McCree snapped.  “Pretend like it doesn't hurt!?   I take time to check up on the man, see how he's doing, get to know him, and this is what he really thinks of me?"  He waved a hand in Hanzo's direction.   "How’d you feel if the man you liked, a man you respected and, and cared for,"  He quieted slightly, looking down into his lap.  "Watched him take every little thing that makes you, you, and just tore it apart in front of everyone.”

  
  
Genji drew in a slow breath,  "I may know a thing or two about that."

 

McCree seemed to realize just what he had said.  “Ah shoot Gen, I’m sorry.”  McCree reached to pull his hat down over his face, only to stop awkwardly as he remembered his hat was on the other side of the room, currently being worn backwards.  

 

Genji sighed with a glance at Hanzo.  His brother had indeed been mocking McCree most of the evening, but he seemed to be having fun.  The smile he wore was certainly real.

 

“You know,” Genji began.  “Two can play at that game.”

  
  
“Now c’mon Genji, you know I’m in deep for yer brother.  I don’t know if I could properly insult a damn thing ‘bout him.”  McCree edged the golden ribbon in his hair between his fingers.  Even the clothes Hanzo wore were soft and beautiful.  He felt wearing them devalued them somehow.

 

“Then don’t insult him,” Genji spoke.  

 

“What?” McCree didn’t understand.

 

Behind his faceplate Genji was smirking, “If you can't fight the dragon, flatter him.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hanzo would be reluctant to admit it, but... he was actually enjoying himself.  If McCree’s loud and outgoing camaraderie always felt like this, it was no wonder the cowboy behaved the way he did.

 

The archer-turned-cowboy was about to demonstrate his fantastic somersaulting skills when he spotted McCree finally extricate himself from the corner.  Hanzo grinned smugly, he had been expecting McCree to speak up for some time now, and was ready for whatever the man planned to throw at him.

 

He hesitated somewhat at the man's growing smirk.

 

McCree straightened his posture and cleared his throat, “My name is Hanzo Shimada.”  He spoke clearly, without even a hint of his normal accent.  “And I am perfect.”

 

Hanzo’s expression shifted to one of confusion.

 

McCree continued, “I am strong and beautiful, and strive excellence in all that I do.”  McCree stepped closer, “I am reliable to my allies, and admired by my friends.”  

 

Hanzo remained still as McCree took a hand and rubbed soft circles with a thumb, “I am passionate and powerful and there’s not a damn ‘nother person like me in the world.”  He began slipping back into his normal speech.

 

“I have people who love my laugh, and my smile, even when I am teasing others."  McCree seemed to have trouble keeping eye contact.  "I have people who care about me, and want to see me happy and-”  McCree paused.   “And maybe... maybe I like cowboys?”

 

Several moments passed before Hanzo spoke softly. “My name is Jesse McCree,” he took a breath.  “I have no shame, and would like to kiss you in front of this room of people.”

 

McCree’s eyes lit up as his grin spread from ear to ear.  He swooped down and firmly pressed his mouth to Hanzo’s, sliding the hat in the way of the cameras as the online chat imploded upon itself.

 

Hana made a mental note to invite them to streams more often.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm keeping up so far this week! Go me!
> 
> Feedback is encouraged.


	5. Young Love (Puppy Love)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My god I love dogs.

It was not unusual for the archer to sneak off on his own.  Sometimes he wished to practice his skills in peace, to dwell on his time with Overwatch and meditate by himself.  Sometimes he just needed his space.  

 

It wasn’t unusual for McCree to find Hanzo during these times.  Contrary to popular belief, Jesse _could_ sit still for longer than five minutes, and he’d found his patience rewarded on more than one occasion.

 

What _was_ unusual was the guilty and somewhat flustered look Hanzo gave McCree when he finally found him.  He'd disappeared almost immediately after their mission, and it had taken a while to track him down.  Hanzo stood frozen in the storage warehouse, eyes wide, his arms full of old, and somewhat ratty blankets.

 

“Well, what do we have here?” McCree cocked a hip and crossed his arms. “Don’t you look as honest as a coyote in a chicken coop?”

 

Hanzo sighed dramatically and mumbled to himself as he continued on his way.  Hanzo thought he must be losing his touch to have the cowboy of all people sneak up on him.

 

“So where’re we off to?” McCree asked.  “And what’s with the blankets?”  

 

“Nothing.  Nowhere.  Stop following me.”  Hanzo replied curtly.

 

If McCree had any inkling towards leaving the archer alone, he certainly didn’t now.   It wasn’t often he caught Hanzo off guard, and there was no way he was giving up the opportunity.  Hanzo resumed his grumblings as McCree continued to follow him.   

 

A short time later McCree paused as he heard a light scratching sound.

 

“Han?  What exactly is back here?”

 

Instead of responding, Hanzo clambered up and over the side of a large storage crate.  One big enough to hold a few men, or as McCree discovered once he managed to pull his chin above the edge, big enough to hold five small dogs.

 

No wait... puppies.  Hanzo had gathered old bedding and was taking care of a litter of puppies.  Hanzo sat in the middle of the group, doing his best to spread the blankets as small bundles of fluff swarmed around him.  The archer laughed quietly as the animals licked and nudged him.  McCree’s heart swelled at the sight.

 

With a bit more effort than Hanzo (that goddamn wall-climbing ninja), McCree managed to haul himself on top of one of the corner walls of the container.  The puppies immediately took notice and three of them swarmed toward him; jumping up and pawing at his feet.

 

“Aw shoot,” McCree said.  “Better take off my boots.  Don’t wanna spur the poor things.”  

 

No sooner had McCree pulled off his boots, leaning back to drop them behind him, than one of the pups grabbed and pulled at a loose sock.

 

“Woah there!”  McCree’s options being fall backwards, or let the dog take the sock, he let the little guy take his prize.

 

The happy puppy ran off into the corner to play their new toy, and was followed by the others, giving McCree room to hop down into the crate without worry of stepping on anyone.

 

“Toshiko!”  Hanzo reprimanded.  “Give that back!  It’s filthy!”

 

“Ha!  You’ve already named them?”  McCree chuckled.  “What ‘bout the others?

 

Hanzo looked oddly embarrassed.  “Ah well,” he began.  “The largest one there is Ichiro, and wrestling with him is Kenji.” He pointed over by the food bowls.  “The one rolling on it’s back is Shiro, and the mischievous little girl that grabbed your sock is Toshiko.”

 

“And the one in your lap?” McCree asked.  The dog Hanzo held had a small red bandanna wrapped around it’s neck.  It was the only one with some sort of collar or marking.

 

Hanzo seemed hesitant as he pet the snuggling puppy.  “This little one is my favorite.”  He scratched at small scruffy ears.  “He was most protective of the others, but after earning his trust I've found him to be warm and affectionate.  He barks loudly and is easily overexcited, but with a little attention he is just as quick to calm."

  
Hanzo looked up with a meaningful smile and sighed, “His name is cowboy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And of course I spent time looking up Japanese dog names because that's how I live my life SO,  
> Ichiro = 1st son  
> Kenji = 2nd son  
> Toshiko = clever child  
> Shiro = 4th son  
> & Cowboy, well, I think we all know what that one stands for.


	6. Ultimate Swap (Dead-Eye and Dragons)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pain brings us together.

“Ahg!”  Hanzo bent forward, dropping Peacekeeper and pressing his palms to his eyes.  The heat pressed against them was near unbearable.  McCree bracing against him was the only thing keeping him upright.

 

“Darlin’ you did it!”  McCree chattered excitedly.  “That was damn amazing!  You hit all three targets spot on!”

 

“Ah,”  Hanzo groaned, and worked at blinking feeling back into his eyes.  Time seemed to be rushing forward, the light seemed too bright, sounds too loud, and he could feel tears gathering at the edges of his vision.  “Does it always hurt like that?

 

“Well, yeah I suppose so.”  McCree admitted sheepishly.  “It stings more the longer you hold it, so normally, more shots means more pain.  It’s one of the reasons I use Peacekeeper like I do.”  Making sure Hanzo was steady, McCree reached down to pick up and check on his gun. “Anything past six shots is hard, even on me.”

 

“You mean you can use it more than six times?” Hanzo was surprised.  Not only had he not heard that before, but he was nearly incapacitated from successfully focusing on just three targets.

 

“Sure can, but it’d be dumb as all fuck.”  Deeming Peacemaker alright after her little fall, he saddled her back in it's holster.  “At around eight shots I get all burned out like you are right now.  The most I’ve ever done at once is twelve.”  He paused with a short laugh. “Heh, I outright passed out afterwards.”

 

Hanzo fully straightened up, feeling more himself.  “Why then would you do such a thing?”

  
  
McCree shrugged, “Hell, probably cause I was 17 and stupid.  You know how it is.”  He turned to Hanzo.  “What about you?  Yer dragons ever wear you out?”

 

“Hah,” it was Hanzo’s turn to laugh dryly.  “Yes, but more to restrain than release.”  He rubbed at the scaled pattern on his left arm.  “At times the dragons require a near constant force of will to remain dormant.  My control over them is absolute, but it is not something that has always come naturally.”

 

“What does it feel like?” McCree asked.

 

Hanzo smirked,“Would you like to find out?”

 

“Wha- how?  I thought,”

 

“Only a Shimada can control the dragons?” Hanzo chuckled.  “That is true, but they can be summoned through a variety of weapons.  I don’t see that summoning through an individual would be that more different.”

  
  
“You saying I’m dangerous darlin’?” McCree smirked.

 

Hanzo huffed, “To my sanity perhaps.  Now take your gun and come here.”

  
  
Hanzo pushed McCree down on one knee in order to properly lean behind him.  He laid his right arm against McCree’s, gently holding his wrist.  The left arm he wrapped over McCree’s shoulder onto his chest. The fist resting loosely near his heart.  McCree gave a small shiver at the feel of Hanzo’s breath on the side of his neck.

 

“Now,” said Hanzo.  “Focus on me.  Feel the thrum of the dragons from my heart to yours.”

  
  
“Sweet pea, if I focus on your _thrumming_ any more than I already am, we’ll have a different kind of problem, if’in you get my drift.”

  
  
“Be serious!” Hanzo reprimanded.  “Else you will feel the sting of our irritation.  They have been begging release since the Dead-Eye and they will not wait much longer.”

 

“How much of them can you actually-”  McCree cut himself off as he felt it.  A whisper of a feeling.  Not quite like hearing words.  More like tasting a sound or breathing a color.  The force of it wrapped around him.  He could feel nothing but himself, Hanzo, and the dragons.  He couldn’t explain how, but he didn’t need Hanzo to tell him to raise his arm, to aim his gun at the targets, to pull the trigger.  He barely registered Hanzo’s call to summon the dragons.

 

It was like water, smooth and flowing and bright.  Like white-capped rapids careening through a canyon.  Like a sudden storm in a dry desert.  Like drowning while being struck by lighting.  It was powerful and beautiful, and dangerous and painful.   Like the recoil of a gunshot.  Like the snap of a bowstring.  An agonizing force that made you _yearn_ for more.  And damn, if that didn’t describe the archer he didn't’ know what did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more left! It might get posted late Christmas Eve, but don't worry. You'll get it :)


	7. Holiday Season (Snowed In)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are worse ways to spend the holidays.

The mission was a success.  Enemy defeated, payload protected, the world safe for another day.  Unfortunately, the world was also blowing winds of 45mph complete with sheets of freezing rain.  Getting to the safehouse had almost been more difficult than the mission itself.

 

Hanzo and McCree were on orders to sit and wait for extraction until the storm blew over.  Winston warned them that they might not be able to withdraw them until December 26th, one hell of a way to spend Christmas. 

 

Which left the pair of them huddled around a generator powered space heater in the main room of the safehouse.  The small base had enough space to house around six agents, but considering the cots were, “uncomfortable moth-eaten pieces of shit,”  they had opted to simply gather all of the pillows and blankets they could find in a loose semi-circle nest around the heater.

 

McCree had managed to encourage Hanzo to  snuggle with him, as night fell. His back leaned against his chest as they passed time telling stories, and listening to the storm outside.

 

“Ya know, Americans don’t normally eat Kentucky Fried Chicken for Christmas right?”  McCree asked.

 

“Yes I know,” Hanzo replied.  “But what started as a rumor has become it’s own tradition at this point.  Besides,” he continued, “You cannot tell me that consuming a bucket of greasy chicken for the holidays does not seem believably American.”

 

“You got me there hun.”  Jesse looked over at their empty MRE wrappers.  The military grade rations were filling, but they were far from satisfying.  “What I wouldn’t give for some of them potato wedges.”

 

Hanzo shifted uncomfortably, “My apologies.  If I had dispatched the enemy sniper earlier we could have avoided-”

 

“Now hold up there darlin’,” the gunslinger gripped his arms around Hanzo.  “That ain’t what I was saying at all!  I’m glad it turned out like this.” Jesse leaned his chin over Hanzo’s shoulder, nuzzling his neck slightly.  “Means I get you all to myself.  A damn fine Christmas if you ask me.”

 

Hanzo fidgeted stiffly, but said nothing.  

 

“Han?”  No response.  “Hanzo?” Jesse asked again.  The archer moved as if to stand up, but McCree held him tighter to keep him in place.  “At least tell me what’s wrong before you run off will ya?”

 

Hanzo slumped in Jesse’s arms, “You-” he cut off and looked to the side.  “you can’t possibly mean that.”

 

“Mean what?”

 

Hanzo hesitated, “That you’d rather… spend time with me than,” he paused again,  “then do anything else.”

 

“Darlin’ I-”

 

“No,” Hanzo cut him off.  He sat forward to turn and look at McCree.  “I know what you’ve said.  How you’ve said you feel.  I just-” he looked away.  “Have trouble believing such things.  I’m not-”

 

McCree shifted into more of cross legged position, giving him the chance to really look at the archer.  He held his tongue, giving the other a chance to continue, but Hanzo kept silent, staring at a spot on the ground.

 

What could Hanzo say?  That he constantly worried that he misread McCree’s fondness?  That he must have some alterior motive?  That there was no way anyone would see him fit to be cherished?  That he likely only held the archer out of pity?

 

Hanzo hungered for affection.  He wanted nothing more than to give in and accept the gunslingers compassion, but nothing held him back more than himself.

 

Jesse watched Hanzo as minutes passed in silence.  The only movement being a slight shake to  Hanzo’s shoulders.  Jesse doubted it was from the cold.  With a sigh, McCree sat forward to pull Hanzo into a hug, pressing the archers face into his shoulder.  Hanzo hesitantly wrapped his arms around McCree, his hands held in fists, as if he was fighting to keep himself from running away.

 

“I wish I could prove it to you.” Jesse began.  “I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”  He pet his flesh hand through Hanzo’s hair, loosening and pulling away his gold ribbon.  “You make me better you know?  Loving you makes me a better man.”  Hanzo’s fingers dug into McCree’s back as he continued.  “I’ve told you that right?  That I love you?  ‘Cause I do.  And I'm not saying it to hear it back.  I honestly-”

 

“Don’t!” Hanzo cried out.  “Please, it’s-”  he took a shaky breath.  “It’s too much.  I feel-”  he breathed out.  “I just… just hold me for now.”

 

“Alright,” Jesse gave a slight nod.  “Alright I can do that.”  He shifted the both of them so they were laying down together, Hanzo gripping the front of Jesse’s shirt, hiding his face against his chest.

 

Jesse began humming an old tune as he slowly pet Hanzo’s hair, relaxing the man bit by bit. To say the archer had his share of demons was an understatement.  Jesse could only hope to be the balm to ease those troubles, just as Hanzo was to him.

 

Jesse smiled as shy words were spoken into his shirt.  Muffled or no, he understood them just fine.  He smiled as he softly sang:

 

_The night we planned the party,_

_To decorate the tree._

_It snowed so hard no one could come._

_No one, just you and me._

 

_That Christmas Eve you told me,_

_You love me, and I knew._

_I’ll never spend a Christmas_

_That I don’t think of you._

 

They fell asleep in each other's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it guys! Merry Christmas!
> 
> Lyrics taken from
> 
>  
> 
> [I'll Never Spend a Christmas That I Don't Think of You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GQbL8X5xaYw)
> 
>  
> 
> by the Statler Brothers.


End file.
